


untitled (i love you).

by tinylion



Category: Walking Dead, Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-27
Updated: 2013-03-27
Packaged: 2017-12-06 17:23:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/738199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinylion/pseuds/tinylion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The thumb on his lips was rough, textured by the handles of the endless amount of guns the man had hold. The nail scratched over his nose at first.</p>
            </blockquote>





	untitled (i love you).

The thumb on his lips was rough, textured by the handles of the endless amount of guns the man had hold. The nail scratched over his nose at first. His bottom lip was pulled down as the thumb lowered, his chin pushed up slightly by the fingers tucked under his chin. His eyes were filled with a strange sort of worry and fear. 

The strawberry smell reached his nostrils, calming him down, a sort of trust dawning upon him in a fashion he couldn’t really describe. The breath was on his face, his cheeks turning a pinkish red at the warmth and his glasses fogging slightly. 

His hands clenched around the notebook in front of his chest as some form of protection he yet had to work out. His fingers even grabbed his shirt like he was desperate not to drop the book. He could feel his nails digging in his skin through the thin fabric. 

The lips are softer than he expected them to be, the little stubble softer than he thought. It’s more than a peck but it’s less than a kiss, the lips brushing over his like a ghost. His eyes widened in shock before he relaxed. His heart beat sped up and as Philip captured his bottom lip he dropped the notebook out of nowhere. 

His hands end up on Philip’s chest but he doesn’t push the man away, he can’t muster up the strength. His glasses are pushed up slightly by the nose bumping into them as the tall cocks his head just enough to deepen the kiss. 

His eyes close and he opens his mouth slightly, his head tilting back that little bit more. He still isn’t sure why he’s giving into it. Something tells him things are off, that this isn’t just an act of love. He’ll get hurt in the end and he knows it but he gives into it. He lets everything that’s happening happen. Because he wants it. Because he needs it. 

It’s over before he completely realizes what is happening. Philip’s standing upright again, barely showing a sign of their kiss but his hand flattened in Milton’s neck. The hand burns him, makes him uncomfortable and leaves almost no chance for him to move his head or to run away. It’s possessive and he’s still unsure about liking it or not. 

“Do you love me?” His eyebrows furrow at the question. Philip knew that he was in love him, why would he ask for confirmation? The man smiles at his confusion and leans in  again, merely brushing his lips against the left corner of Milton’s mouth. 

“I know.” The words are spoken softer than the question, a mere whisper slipping from Philip’s tongue. The hands slides down and joins the other arm in an embrace. Milton still doubts on his decisions, his hands trapped between their chests as Philip gently pushes him against the wall. 

“What are you doing?” His words get cut short by another kiss, same softness but he can Philip’s tongue against his lips, against his teeth when he finds a way in. He lets himself sink into the kiss, the warm embrace feeling trustworthy. 


End file.
